


Legendary Genesis

by Ahnyo



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-31 11:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahnyo/pseuds/Ahnyo
Summary: A human is reborn as a Pokémon. A Pokémon will be reborn as a god. Factions collide as they race to collect eighteen legendary treasures, threatening to further upset the balance of an already fractured world.





	1. The Bug Catcher

In the soft light of morning, the Foreboding Bog hardly lived up to its name. 

It was humid, and the smell of rotting vegetation lingered in the air. Gnarled mangroves towered over shadowy ferns and beds of reeds. Sunlight kissed the water, warding away the swamp gas that created illusions in the dark. Everything was calm and still; the Foreboding Bog was considered inhospitable by most, so few Pokémon dared to set foot in the dungeon. 

An exception was a young Carnivine by the name of Dion. Unlike the majority of Pokémon, Carnivine were adapted to thrive in vile wetlands. As such, Dion felt right at home in the Foreboding Bog. With a bag slung over his shoulder and his signature grin plastered across his face, Dion was oozing with confidence. 

He hung by the entrance, appraising the dungeon thoughtfully. “I bet nobody's been to this place in _centuries._ It's gotta be loaded with treasure!” he said to himself. “When I return to the academy with a huge bag of loot, everyone will think twice before making fun of me.” Under his breath, he muttered, “Well, maybe not Cleo.” 

Dion was the newest student at Arcanine's Academy, a school dedicated to the art of treasure hunting. School policy required each student to be paired with one or two partners, forming a “hunting team”. This allowed Headmaster Arcanine to create specialized lessons based on each team's individual strengths and weaknesses. Most of these lessons were hands-on, and they tended to involve navigating treacherous dungeons. At Arcanine's Academy, students were expected to encounter all sorts of perils and foes. If the headmaster was to be believed, that was how they learned best. Students were strictly forbidden from taking lessons alone, though. _That_ was too dangerous. 

Due to a recent slump in recruits, Dion had yet to be sorted into a hunting team. He bided his time running errands for Headmaster Arcanine, helping Chef Muk in the kitchen, and tidying up the academy with Chamberlain Claydol. Since Dion was clumsy and a tad dimwitted, he had a habit of messing up even the simplest of tasks. This provided the other students with endless entertainment. 

Usually, it didn't bother Dion when they laughed. Only one student managed to get under his skin: Cleo, the leader of Team Masquerade. The catty Yamask had delighted in making his life miserable since his first day at the academy, and Dion didn't have the slightest idea why. 

A particular incident involving her remained at the forefront of his mind. 

“That Dion—he's such a useless oaf! He'll never make it as a treasure hunter. If he came along on one of our expeditions, he'd just slow us all down. Headmaster Arcanine, why don't you just have him expelled?” 

The headmaster had laughed. “Lass, that's not your call,” he'd told her, his baritone voice raspy with age. “I let Dion enroll for a reason. He has potential, just like you do. Maybe someday you'll see what I mean.” 

Cleo had proceeded to leave in a huff. 

Dion mulled over the headmaster's words while fidgeting with his bag. _Headmaster Arcanine said_ _I have potential. I wonder what he meant by that._ He knew he wouldn't find the answer while idling around the academy, which was why he had decided to take matters into his own hands. _Today's the day I'm going to_ _prove_ _my potential to the academy… and maybe the world!_

Dion entered the Foreboding Bog, using Levitate to float about a foot above the ground. He spotted a rickety old boardwalk and swooped down to investigate. Dion ran his hand along the grooves in the weathered wood, only to recoil in pain. A splinter had embedded itself in one of his leafy fingertips. Dion plucked it out, wincing. “Eee… this thing doesn't seem very safe.” He stared at the boardwalk while contemplating turning around. Once he had made up his mind, Dion rose into the air. 

He froze. 

“Oh, yeah,” he said, chuckling. “Never mind!” Dion whistled a cheery tune as he hovered along the boardwalk, keeping his eyes peeled for treasure. The only problem was that he didn't actually know what treasure looked like. He was sure he'd be able to recognize it if he found some, though. 

Dion wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. It was the height of morning, and the temperature had peaked as well. The humidity was becoming unbearable, even for a Carnivine. He shrugged it off and pressed on, refusing to bow to the heat. 

Dion frowned when he reached the end of the boardwalk. The last few planks had broken off and fallen into the motionless water. “This can't be the end of the dungeon, can it?” He balled his fists. “No! A trick like this might keep _some_ Pokémon away from the treasure, but it's not gonna work on me.” Smoothly, he boasted, “I can _Levitate_.” He tore into the depths of the Foreboding Bog, weaving between the mangroves and rustling the plants below. 

Almost immediately, Dion caught a glimpse of something bright green. “Oh? What could this be?” Dion drooled in anticipation as he approached, savoring the moment. “Maybe it's a giant emerald! Wait, no. The headmaster said emeralds are _dark_ green. It's gotta be… a peridot! Yeah, that sounds right. Either way… I'm gonna be rich!” 

Dion brushed aside a curtain of leaves and recoiled at what he found. 

The body of a Scyther lay belly-down in a pool of muck. Its torso was hidden beneath the water, but its abdomen was still visible; its size indicated it was female. The Scyther's head was resting on a pile of damp stones, and her face was contorted in a grimace. She had thrown one of her scimitar-shaped arms over the rocks; the other was underwater. Her wings were waterlogged. Her legs were sprawled in a strange position. Nearby, a muddy piece of purple cloth was sticking out of the water. 

Dion jolted backwards and slithered up a tree in fright. He shielded his eyes with his broad, leafy hands, but curiosity compelled him to take another peek. “Golly!” he remarked in a whisper. “I wasn't expecting to find anyone out here, especially like this! Oh gosh, is she even alive?” Dion broke a stick off of the tree and prodded at her face. “Wake up! Please wake up!” 

When the Scyther's eyes snapped open, Dion nearly tumbled out of the tree. To his surprise, she didn't look the least bit alarmed—in fact, she looked as though she had just woken up from a pleasant dream. She grunted something unintelligible before parting her jaws in a yawn. 

Dion beamed in relief. “Oh, good!” he cried as he flung the stick into the water. “You're not dead!” 

The Scyther flitted her eyelids a few times before quizzically narrowing her eyes. “What?” Her voice was soft and low-pitched, unlike Dion's. 

“Up here!” Dion shouted. When the Scyther lifted her head, he gave her a friendly wave. 

She regarded him for almost a full minute, dumbfounded. At last, she stuttered, “Y-you're… a Carnivine…” 

Dion got down from the tree. “Yup! As a matter of fact I am.” He reached out to her. “Need a hand?” 

The Scyther blinked some more. “Yeah, I guess that would be… uh, nice.” She jerked her arm and her scythe shot out of the water. In the throes of disorientation, her movements were stiff and erratic. 

If Dion had been any closer to the ground, he would have gotten skewered. “Yikes! That was a close one!” he yelped, bunching his vine-like legs. “Heh… guess I didn't think that through. You really could use a hand or two, though. They're a lot less dangerous than scythes!” He let out a playful guffaw, hoping the other Pokémon would join in his laughter. 

But the Scyther was silent. She was staring vacantly at her bladed arm, her expression unreadable. 

“H-hey, it's okay! I'm fine! You didn't actually hurt me,” Dion insisted. 

The Scyther swiveled her head around and looked him in the eye. “No. You don't understand,” she said with wooden intonation. “This isn't my arm.” 

Dion's eyes were wide with horror. “Then… _whose_ arm is it?” 

The Scyther clambered to her feet, her legs wobbling beneath her. Seconds later, she toppled onto her back. “I'm dreaming,” she mused, lying in the mud. “Yes, that has to be it.” 

“ _Dreaming?_ ” 

She smiled at Dion, catching him off guard. “Look,” she said. “I'm not even going to bother explaining this to you. This is probably never going to happen again, so I don't want to waste any time.” The Scyther shook her head, still smiling. “I… I can't believe it. I can't believe I'm actually having a lucid dream!” She cackled as she spread out her arms, carving shallow trenches in the dirt. “I'm a Scyther—a _Pokémon_ _!_ How crazy is that?” 

Dion watched, baffled. “You're… not making any sense,” he said. He gestured at the pile of stones. “Maybe you hit your head on those rocks over there.” 

The Scyther was on her knees now, slashing at the reeds. Without looking up from her work, she murmured, “Hmm… nah.” 

“I think you should come with me to Origin Central. Maybe I'll be able to get you some help.” 

“I'll gladly come if it means getting out of this swamp. For a dream, this place _reeks_.” She got up again, using her scythes for support. She took a big whiff of the air. “Huh, that's weird. I also smell something sweet. What is that? It's kind of nice, actually.” 

Dion ignored her. “I don't know how to tell you this, but I really don't think this is a dream.” Just to be sure, he swept his hand across his face. It felt real to him. 

“Don't be silly,” the Scyther chided. “There's no way this is real. That would be impossible.” 

It had become clear to Dion that trying to convince the Scyther otherwise was futile, so he changed the subject. “Before we get going, can you tell me your name? Mine's Dion.” 

“My name? My name is…” The Scyther wrinkled her nose. “What _is_ my name? I… I don't remember!” 

Dion nodded in silent understanding. “Is there anything you _do_ remember?” 

“Now that I think about it… no, not really. Like, I know I had friends and family, but I can't remember anything about them.” She shut her eyes tight. “This is freaking me out. I kind of want to wake up now.” 

“But you do remember that you're not supposed to be a Scyther, or at least that's what you believe.” Dion rubbed his chin. “What are you supposed to be, then?” 

“A human,” she replied casually. 

“A _human?_ ” Dion gasped. “But… humans aren't real, are they? I thought they were make-believe!” Dion had heard plenty of stories about humans: strange, bipedal creatures that trapped Pokémon in special Wonder Orbs and forced them to battle each other. 

“Touché.” The Scyther heaved a sigh. “None of this makes any sense, but… maybe you're right. Maybe this isn't a dream.” 

Dion gave another somber nod. 

The Scyther let her arms hang at her sides. “I guess this is it, then.” All of the joy had been sucked out of her voice. She almost sounded like a different Pokémon altogether. 

Dion twiddled his thumbs. “Er… anyway, let's get going. I'll take you straight to Arcanine's Academy. If there's anyone who'll know what to do about this, it's Headmaster Arcanine. I'll show you the way.” He sailed forward, peering over his shoulder to make sure the Scyther was following. When he noticed she was struggling to keep up, he slowed down a little. “You know,” he said, “I thought Scyther were supposed to be super fast… so fast you can hardly see them!” 

“I'm not a Scyther.” 

“Oh. Right.” Dion was quiet for a moment. “That reminds me. Since you can't remember your name, is there anything in particular you'd like to be called?” 

“Uh… _Eileen_. That was the first thing that popped into my head. Could it be my real name? No, that can't be right. Whatever. Just call me Eileen.” 

“All righty! Eileen it is.” Dion thought about what he'd name himself if given the choice until he was interrupted by a loud splash. He whipped around. Eileen had fallen into the water and was fighting to stay afloat. Dion had only made it to this part of the Foreboding Bog with the help of Levitate—an ability not possessed by Scyther like Eileen. 

“Gah!” Dion cried. “How deep is it? Can you swim?” 

“Not like this!” Eileen snarled as her head went under. Seconds later, her snout emerged. She managed to spit out a mouthful of green water before disappearing once more. Dion gnawed on his fingertips as he waited for her to return. The only sign of the Scyther was a steady stream of tiny bubbles rising to the surface. 

Dion flew around the watery chasm in a panicked circle. “What do I do? What do I do?” When he realized he was wasting precious time, he forced himself to calm down. “Think, Dion, think!” Thinking was not one of Dion's strong suits, so he scoured his surroundings for inspiration. Surely enough, he found it in a nearby mangrove that had been overtaken by vines. “That's it!” A pair of skinny tendrils extended from the base of his neck. “ _Vine Whip!_ ” 

Carefully, Dion guided his vines into the water. He fished around until one of his vines got caught on a long, slender object. Dion breathed in relief and reeled it in, only to find it was the stick he had discarded earlier. “What? No way!” He tossed it aside, dipped his vines back into the water, and tried again. 

This time, Dion grabbed onto something much heavier. It _had_ to be Eileen! He tightened his vines around her upper arms and tugged with all his might, but he wasn't strong enough to lift her above the surface. Eileen gasped for breath as her head burst out of the water. 

Dion looked her over. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” Eileen croaked between coughs, retching. “Ugh. It tastes like something _died_ in there.” 

“Well, be glad it wasn't you!” Dion couldn't help but feel a bit peeved that Eileen hadn't bothered to thank him. “I'm sure you'll be fine.” 

For several minutes, Eileen paddled in place while Dion held her up. Once Eileen had caught her breath, she demanded, “Now what?” 

Dion gulped. There was something intimidating about her appearance, from her penetrative stare to her scythes that could slice a Pokémon into ribbons in the blink of an eye. It didn't help that Dion was weak to both of her types. He knew Eileen had no reason to hurt him—and even if she did, she probably wouldn't know how—but she made him nervous nonetheless. 

“Er… there's a boardwalk somewhere around here. Now, where was it?” Dion hauled Eileen along behind him as he searched, and she was too exhausted to care that he was guiding her into all sorts of hidden boulders and logs. Her eyes were glazed with weariness, which made her look just a tiny bit less menacing. 

“Ah-ha! There it is!” In his excitement, Dion dragged Eileen into one of the planks that had broken off of the boardwalk. The plank coasted into the shadows and disappeared. 

With newly found energy, Eileen glared at him. 

Dion averted his eyes. “Heh, whoops. S-sorry about that.” 

Eileen turned away. She studied the boardwalk for a long time, idling in contemplation. 

“Think you can do it?” Dion snapped. His patience was wearing thin. 

Eileen stirred, shaken from her trance. “I'll… I'll try,” she said in a small voice. She dug her scythes into the boardwalk, leaving deep incisions in the wood. Shifting her weight onto her upper body, she struggled to push herself onto the platform. Dion strained himself as he tried to help pull her out. Despite their combined efforts, Eileen remained in the water. 

“ _Phew_.” Dion lowered his head in despair, his gaze landing on Eileen's wings. His head shot back up. “Hey, wait a minute!” he hollered, nearly letting go of her. 

“What?” 

“Eileen!” He slapped his tangled knees, wheezing with laughter. “What are we even doing? You have wings! You can fly!” 

“I have wings?” she repeated. “I can… fly?” 

“Of course! I can't believe it took so long for one of us to notice. What are you waiting for? Get up here!” 

Eileen frowned. “I don't know how to fly.” 

“It just sort of… happens, I guess. That's the way it is with Levitate, anyway. It's probably a lot different when you're using wings.” Dion loosened his grip. “I guess you'll just have to give it a whirl and see how it goes.” 

Eileen drew a wary breath. “All right, then.” Her four wings vibrated in unison, spreading a shower of mist into the air. Spooked, she made her wings still. “That's so weird… it's not what I was expecting at all.” 

“Keep at it!” Dion cheered. “Don't give up!” 

Eileen gnashed her teeth. Her wings buzzed and she tore her blades out of the wood as she started gaining height. Eileen angled her body over the boardwalk and drifted forward a few feet; then, she let herself fall. She hit the wood with a _thud_. “Ow,” she hissed as she stood up. “I'm so heavy.” 

“Tell me about it!” 

Eileen flashed Dion a look that made him fear for his life. 

Sweating, he said, “Haha, well… at least you're out of harm's way!” 

“Am I?” Eileen said through clenched teeth. She picked up one of her feet and showed it to Dion. There was a large chunk of wood wedged in her sole. 

“Yikes! I should have warned you about the splinters.” 

Eileen reached for her foot, glowering. When she remembered she didn't have hands, she brought her scythes together and attempted to use them as tweezers. She lost her balance and fell onto her side, where she proceeded to writhe in frustration. 

“Wow,” remarked Dion. “I never thought I'd meet a Pokémon as clumsy as me.” 

Eileen stopped moving and looked up at Dion. 

“You know,” he continued in a wistful tone, “I think the two of us would make a great team. We wouldn't slow each other down, that's for sure. Maybe we could even learn how to be less clumsy together.” 

Eileen slammed the back of her head against the boardwalk, suppressing a scream. 

“Oh!” cried Dion, shaken from his daydreams. “I should probably help you with that, shouldn't I?” He glided over to her, grabbed her leg, and pinched the splinter with his leafy fingers. Eileen grimaced as he yanked it out and flicked it into the water. Then, Dion used Vine Whip to help her to her feet. Eileen didn't thank him for any of it, but Dion had stopped letting that bother him. 

He had certainly found something deep within the Foreboding Bog—something that might have been even more interesting than treasure. Dion couldn't wait to report back to the academy and share his discovery with Headmaster Arcanine. 


	2. Headmaster Disaster

As a human, Eileen had perused many articles pertaining to lucid dreaming. Though there were more than a few ways to invoke lucidity, the guides all seemed to agree that the first thing one should do if they suspect they are dreaming is take a good look at their hands. There is perhaps nothing quite as recognizable as the sight of one's own ten fingers—so if anything's even the slightest bit off about them, one is apt to pick up on it right away. After all, when someone is very familiar with something, it is said that they know it “like the back of their hand”. 

There is a flaw in this method, however. It relies on the assumption that hands are immutable objects and change can _only_ come to them in dreams. What if a person woke up and found that their hands had been _cut off?_ Should they be expected to shrug it off and go back to sleep? Such an argument bordered on pedantry, but it was in Eileen's nature to entertain such thoughts. Given the implausibility of her situation, it was remarkable that she had retained the capacity to call upon any logic at all. 

Eileen didn't have _hands_ , per se, but _something_ had taken their place: terrible, wicked blades that posed a significant threat to anyone in her immediate surroundings. She no longer possessed the ability to pick up or hold onto things, and the latter seemingly applied to her sanity as well. She was a _Scyther_ —a creature she was pretty sure did not actually exist. Granted, Eileen couldn't remember much about anything. For all she knew, humans were fake and Pokémon had been real all along. 

Eileen still found herself glancing at her blade-like forearms every now and again—but ironically, she was trying to convince herself that what she was experiencing _was_ _n't_ a dream. As time went on, she was became less and less convinced that she was dreaming. She had more faith in Dion's explanation than her own, seeing as it was hard for Eileen to trust herself when she didn't even know who she was. There was one thing she knew Dion was wrong about, though: she had definitely been a human. 

Eileen could remember some things about her past life, so she couldn't have just hit her head. She knew she had a name, and she knew she had friends and a family. Why couldn't she remember anything about them, then? It was like her brain had been scrubbed with a cheap pencil eraser; the kind that left ugly gray smudges all over the page. 

“We're getting pretty close to the exit,” Dion said, scattering Eileen's thoughts. 

“Right.” She walked unsteadily on her toes, keeping her eyes peeled for splinters and rusty nails. Her eyesight was markedly sharper. As a human, Eileen had been nearsighted and she had a hard time seeing anything more than a foot away from her. Now, all the shapes in her environment were pronounced, and she was keen to minute details she never would have noticed as a human. To her astonishment, she could make out every individual leaf on the distant mangrove trees. Through the eyes of a Scyther, the world was breathtakingly beautiful—but it was hard for Eileen to fully appreciate the world when she felt like she didn't belong in it. 

It was as though her soul had been ripped out of her body and carelessly stuffed into another container. Eileen had spent somewhere in the vicinity of two decades in the shape of a human, walking with human legs and breathing with human lungs. Being a Scyther felt utterly wrong. The sight of her strange, insect body elicited a kind of visceral horror that made Eileen's mind lurch and dissociate. Dion's chipper voice and his distinct candy-like odor were the only things anchoring her to reality. 

“You must be super tired. You'll be able to get some rest as soon as we get to the academy, I promise.” 

“Mm-hm.” It was true: Eileen had only just woken up, but already she wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. She wasn't accustomed to this much excitement, or at least excitement that stemmed from something so thoroughly bizarre. 

Although she'd failed to communicate it, Eileen was grateful for the Carnivine. She didn't want to think of what would've become of her if he hadn't shown up: she'd probably be even more scared and confused than she was now, which was saying something. Of course, the only reason she'd survived long enough to be able to experience those emotions was because Dion had saved her life. 

She didn't know how to thank him. In fact, Eileen didn't know how to get herself to say much of anything at all. As soon as she realized she wasn't dreaming, a barricade had formed in her throat—the same kind of barrier that was cutting off the bulk of her memories. She was forced to communicate through gestures, grunts, and simple responses; only occasionally did a sentence manage to slip out, and only in times when it was imperative for her to speak. Otherwise, she was practically mute. Had she always been this way, or was it just because she was in shock? That was another thing Eileen couldn't remember. 

The boardwalk let off in a sparsely forested area. Eileen squinted as her eyes adjusted to the daylight outside of the dungeon. Immediately, she was taken by the scent of fresh air. She let it flood her lungs, driving out the nasty swamp vapors that had collected in her chest. 

Dion motioned at a dirt trail that curved around the trees. “If we follow that path, we'll be at Origin Central in no time. Arcanine's Academy isn't far from there.” 

“Got it,” said Eileen. 

Dion hovered close to her as they traveled down the path. “I was getting way ahead of myself when I said we'd make a good team. You'd probably like me to explain what the heck I was talking about.” 

Eileen shrugged. Learning about Origin Central and Arcanine's Academy was the least of her concerns at the moment, but Dion was enthusiastic about the subject and she enjoyed listening to him talk. 

Dion cocked his head to the side. “Hmm.” He didn't seem pleased with her response. “Well, I'll tell you anyway. Ha, where do I even begin?” He cleared his throat. “You see, I'm a student at Arcanine's Academy. Well, okay. I'm not _technically_ a student yet, and _technically_ I wasn't supposed to be out in that dungeon… but I'll get to that later. Arcanine's Academy is where Pokémon go to learn how to hunt for treasure! There's no better teacher than Headmaster Arcanine. He's the greatest treasure hunter who ever lived!” 

Eileen nodded along as Dion told her about the academy and all the treasure he swore he would find one day. He then dolefully explained what was standing in the way of his dreams. 

“But that's where you come in, Eileen!” Dion said, sounding upbeat. “If you enroll, I'll finally be able to start learning how to hunt for treasure! So, whaddya say? Do you want to form a hunting team with me?” 

Eileen stared him down. _I know he's excited, but… this is all so sudden! Can't I have some time_ _to_ _figure out what's going on before I get dragged into something like this?_ Eileen knew she wouldn't be able to handle all the duties Dion had relayed to her in a disturbingly cheerful manner. She told him, “I'll… I'll have to think about it.” 

Dion crossed his arms in a huff. “But _Eileeeeeen_ ,” he whined, “don't you see what this could mean? Like I said, we don't just hunt for treasure. In addition to stopping bad guys and rescuing Pokémon from danger, we also try to solve mysteries… mysteries like the one surrounding your past! I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of it, but _only_ if you join the academy.” 

Eileen bit her tongue, noticing that the air smelled even more strongly of sugar. As much as she didn't want to get involved, Dion's offer was tantalizing. Eileen suspected he was bluffing, but then again, it wasn't like she had anywhere else to go. Enrolling at Arcanine's Academy came with the promise of food and board—things she doubted she'd be able to find if she went off on her own. Eileen exhaled deeply, her breath dragging out a reluctant response: “ _Fine_.” 

Dion's eyes lit up. “R-really? You promise?” 

Eileen gave a hesitant nod. 

Dion danced around Eileen, showering her with applause. “Yay, yay, yay, yay!” he sang. “Oh man, this is gonna be awesome! We've gotta get to the academy as fast as possible. If we hurry, we might have enough time to get started on our first lesson right away!” He barreled ahead, twirling in an aerial ballet. 

Eileen trudged behind him at her regular pace. _Didn't you_ _say_ _I'd be able to get some rest?_

Dion came to an abrupt halt. “Oh, yeah.” He faced Eileen, and she noticed that his plant-like body was starting to wilt. “When Headmaster Arcanine finds out about this, I'm bound to get in trouble… gosh, I wasn't thinking. He'll give me extra chores, or...” Eileen watched as his dismay escalated into alarm. “W-what if he won't let me become a hunter? The headmaster's a nice Pokémon, but he's a stickler for the rules. Oh, this is bad. Bad, bad, bad.” 

Eileen scratched at the dirt path while she thought about how to console him. “You don't know for sure.” 

Dion looked up and sighed. “Yeah, you're right. I guess there's only one way to find out.” As he drifted forward, he said, “Maybe I can stretch the truth a little. What if I told him I bumped into you in Origin Central? Headmaster Arcanine has me run errands for him in town all the time.” His hope faded. “That wouldn't explain why we stink like a couple of Garbodor, though. Hmm… hopefully I'll be able to come up with a good excuse before we get there.” 

To Eileen, the so-called Origin Central looked like a fairytale village. A yellow banner decorated with blotchy white stars hung from a pair of trees at the entrance, where the dirt path they had been following joined with a wide cobblestone road. The street was flanked with tents and market stalls, and beyond that was a neighborhood of little houses made from plaster and timber frames. Far off in the distance, Eileen could just barely make out the shape of a castle. The place was bustling with activity: Pokémon of all shapes and sizes were browsing the heaps of merchandise and noisily bartering with the shopkeepers. 

“ _Origin Central_ ,” Dion recited, deadpan, “ _where all adventures begin._ ” He shook his head. “Hehe, not this one. I think it'd be best if we avoided the town. The shopping district's flocked around this time of day, and we wouldn't want to run the risk of attracting unwanted attention.” 

Eileen smiled in idle whimsy, charmed by the quaint atmosphere of the village. She wanted to stroll past the banner and see what was for sale, even though that would likely land her and Dion in deep trouble. Window shopping—that was something she had enjoyed as a human. She also recalled that she drew every now and again, had a strong interest in biology, and loved nothing more than to sit down and write stories for long periods of time. All of her hobbies were crystal clear, but knowing what she did in her free time was useless to Eileen. Why couldn't she remember anything important? 

Dion unfurled a vine and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey. You coming?” 

Startled, Eileen ducked her head in apology. “Y-yeah.” 

The two of them walked in silence, mutually navigating their own seas of troubled thoughts. Dion tensed up when they stumbled upon a suspicious-looking shed. Although it was partially obscured by a jungle of overgrown weeds, it was impossible to miss. 

The first thing that caught Eileen's attention was the shed's paint job. It had been slathered in a shade of blue so bright that it made her eyes hurt. The shed was poorly built, having been assembled from rotting planks of various lengths and widths. It looked as though even a gentle gust of wind would cause the entire thing to collapse. There weren't any windows, but light seeped in through big gaps in the wood—gaps that would also allow someone inside to watch the Pokémons' every move. The gaudy blue color looked out of place on the dilapidated shed, but the odd contrast served to make it even more unsettling. 

“Not good.” Dion clambered up a nearby tree and hid among its branches. “Eileen, we've gotta get away from here.” 

His fear was contagious. Eileen could feel her heart thudding in her chest. Not bothering to question why Dion was hiding when he said they needed to run, she headed over to a different tree and stood behind it. The trunk's slender girth left her broad shoulders and wings exposed. Noticing this, she asked, “Why?” in distress. 

“That,” Dion whispered, “is _Manectric's Academy_.” 

_That tiny shack is… an academy? How? It hardly looks like it'd be able to fit one_ _Pokémon_ _, let alone an entire class!_ Eileen knit her brows, her fear caving beneath her doubt. 

“I'll tell you more about it when we're a good distance away. Run, Eileen!” 

In a display of clumsy footwork, Eileen sprinted through the overgrowth. Spindly plants ensnared her legs and burrs dug into her carapace, but she tried her hardest not to let them slow her down. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed that Dion was effortlessly gliding above the weeds. Fueled by envy, Eileen quickened her pace. She wished she was confident enough to use her wings—if danger was as imminent as Dion let on, now would be a poor time to practice. 

Once the shed had vanished from sight, Dion plopped onto a tree stump to catch his breath. Eileen remained standing, not wanting to go through the trouble of hauling herself onto her feet yet again. 

“Okay,” said Dion, still whispering, “We should be safe now.” 

Eileen fixed her gaze on him, eager to find out what exactly they had been running from. 

Dion raised his voice a few decibels. “Arcanine's Academy isn't the only treasure hunting school in this part of the land, and there's a reason for that. Years ago, a wild Pokémon called Electrike tried to join Arcanine's Academy. Normally, Headmaster Arcanine welcomes new students with open arms… but there was something off about Electrike. Just by looking at her, Headmaster Arcanine could tell she was rotten to the core. He turned her down, and Electrike was so offended that she and her nasty friends made an academy of their own! Underneath that shed is a huge network of abandoned Onix tunnels. The academy's sorta like a big, scary dungeon.” 

Dion's voice grew louder and louder as he went on. “Electrike evolved not long after that. These days, she goes by _Headmistress Manectric_. Manectric's Academy… it's bad news all around. Since Manectric wasn't taught by Headmaster Arcanine, she doesn't know anything about treasure hunting! Manectric's a huge phony. She makes up all of her lessons on a whim, and her students never learn _anything_. 

“Oh, and those students? The only Pokémon desperate enough to join Manectric's Academy are delinquents and criminals. That school's nothing but a thieves' guild! I bet they don't even go hunting for treasure in dungeons… they swipe it right out from under honest Pokémons' noses!” 

By then, Dion was practically yelling. He unclenched his fists and took a quick look around. Returning to a whisper, he said, “That's what Headmaster Arcanine told me, anyway. To tell the truth, I've never met Manectric or any of her students. Heck, this is the first time I've seen her academy with my own eyes—but that's because going anywhere near it is against the rules.” Dion shifted guiltily. “Golly, I'm turning into a real troublemaker. Maybe I belong at Manectric's Academy.” 

They continued on their way, heading toward the castle Eileen had spotted from Origin Central. Dion performed a sweeping gesture. “There it is: Arcanine's Academy!” 

Now that she could see it up close, Eileen marveled at the architecture. The castle was roughly cube-shaped, with a smaller cube positioned at the front. On the larger structure, a pointy spire extended from each of the four corners. The spires were topped with long red pennants that flapped in the breeze. At the entrance, a wooden drawbridge was suspended over a nonexistent moat. Dion cowered at the sight of it. 

“Headmaster Arcanine normally keeps the drawbridge up so thieves don't come waltzing in. If it's down, that must mean the headmaster knows I've gone missing and he's about to send out a rescue team!” 

Eileen blinked, wondering how Dion was able to reach such wild conclusions. She kept moving, wordlessly beckoning Dion to follow. 

To their surprise, the academy was deserted. Eileen and Dion traipsed across a narrow burgundy carpet as they surveyed the building. The stone infrastructure kept the interior of the castle much cooler than the outside air, almost to the point that it was chilly. Wall-mounted torches cast light on maps, yellow with age, that were draped over the walls. At the end of the carpet was a flight of stairs leading to a long hallway. Two more hallways had been carved into the wall on either side of the staircase. Eileen's heart skipped a beat when a massive Pokémon appeared at the top of the stairs. 

His left eye had been gouged out, and across his nose was a long, pink gash. Tufts of fur had been torn from his muzzle, leaving scaly bald patches along the sides of his face. All that remained of his ears were tattered shreds. His jaw was twisted, and a single yellow tooth poked out from his lips. He was wearing a soiled olive green scarf adorned with a golden badge. Though age had tarnished the Pokémon's appearance, muscles still rippled beneath his faded pelt. 

Eileen cast Dion a guarded look, unsure of what to think. 

Dion was unfazed. “Oh. Headmaster Arcanine,” he said. “I was hoping to run into you… but at the same time, I kind of wasn't.” 

Eileen's jaw dropped. _Tha_ _t_ was thePokémon in charge of the school? He was _ancient!_

Dion's words didn't reach the old headmaster. Foam oozed from his mouth as he stared down at the Pokémon below. He curled back his lip at the sight of Eileen, revealing mostly bare gums. “You!” he boomed. His voice resounded off of the academy's stone walls, causing Eileen's entire body to quake. “I thought I vanquished you long ago! Have ya come back for more? This time, I won't let you take anything from me… but _I_ might just take your life!” 

Eileen looked to Dion again, this time in horror. 

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Aw man, not this again…” 

Eileen stomped her feet in bewilderment. _Would it kill some_ _body_ _to explain what_ _'s_ _going on?_

Headmaster Arcanine bunched his muscles and leaped from the top of the stairs, gracefully landing several yards away from Eileen. He began to stalk toward her, moving slowly as if he were anticipating her to attack first. 

Dion threw himself between them, his arms outstretched. “Snap out of it, Headmaster!” 

“Out of the way!” Arcanine ordered. “I've got to settle a score with this ol' scoundrel, and I wouldn't want to see ya get hurt.” 

When Dion didn't move, Headmaster Arcanine narrowed his good eye and harrumphed. Then, he let out a deafening Roar. The force sent Dion flying into a wall, where he crumpled to the ground. 

Eileen whimpered as she looked from Dion to Headmaster Arcanine. Smoke billowed from the his paws as he approached her, charring the carpet beneath him. The smoke spread until his entire body was wreathed in flames. Time seemed to lag as Eileen struggled to process what was unfolding in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and pointed a trembling scythe at the headmaster, bracing herself for the impact. 

“Don't just stand there,” Dion said weakly. “Move, Eileen! Get out of the way!” 

But Eileen was paralyzed. 

Headmaster Arcanine pounced, sparks shooting from his jaws. Eileen could feel his heat enveloping her, singeing the exoskeleton that still didn't feel like it was hers. 

Suddenly, something coiled around her. Just as Arcanine was about to barrel into her, Eileen was pulled off her feet. When she hit the floor, her eyes snapped open. Her body was wrapped in a bundle of green tendrils. 

Dion had saved her life again. 

“Yes!” Dion pumped his fist as he released her. He had already gotten up and dusted himself off. He had taken little damage from the headmaster's attack; it was clear that Headmaster Arcanine hadn't been intending to hurt him. Of course, the same could not be said about Eileen. 

Headmaster Arcanine slammed onto the ground and skidded across the cold stone, causing his flames to die out. He grumbled and began to lift himself up. 

“Now's your chance! Run while he's still down!” Dion instructed. “I'll see what I can do about stopping him. You don't have to worry about me. Even when he's like this, Headmaster Arcanine would never hurt one of his students.” 

Eileen was skeptical, but it didn't matter. She had to focus on her own survival. As she rolled onto her side, a throbbing sensation shot up her back. It took Eileen all of her strength to get up. She staggered over to the staircase and crouched down beside it. _What kind of lousy_ _Pokémon_ _am I?_ Eileen thought crossly. _I didn't get hit, but I'm doubling over in pain anyway!_

Back on his feet, Headmaster Arcanine sniffed the air. “With a stench that offensive, there's no hiding from my Odor Sleuth!” Despite his boasting, the headmaster appeared confused. The swampy smell was coming from multiple directions, and it was masked by a completely different scent. “Ectoplasm,” he murmured. “There's a ghost around here somewhere… is it you? Maybe I really did vanquish you all those years ago!” He let out a boisterous laugh. “I'll gladly send you to the grave a second time if that's what it takes!” 

“You're losing it!” Eileen was alarmed to see Dion sneaking up behind Arcanine, preparing to launch an attack of his own. “Get a grip, Headmaster! 'Cause if you won't… I will!” The tendrils burst from the base of Dion's neck, lengthening until he was able to ensnare the headmaster's forelegs. 

Headmaster Arcanine lifted one paw, and then the other. He sneered. “Think you can slow me down? Ha! Just _try_ to keep up with my Extreme Speed!” He broke into a dash, bucking violently as he sprinted around the foyer. Dion screamed as he was pulled through the air behind him. The headmaster was reaching speeds that should have been impossible for someone his age—or any Pokémon at all, for that matter. 

Dion wailed, “Heeeaaadmasteeer, stooooooooop!” 

“Aaand cut!” Eileen whipped around at the sound of a nasally female voice, but she couldn't figure out where it was coming from. “It was fun until the dope started screaming. There's only so much of that I can take. Time for Team Masquerade to steal the show!” 

Two Bug-type Pokémon—a Karrablast and a Shelmet—tottered down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, a Yamask materialized between them. 

Eileen glared at the trio in disbelief. How long had they been watching without doing anything to help? 

The Yamask snapped her fingers. “Sheldon, trip him up with a Sludge Bomb! That'll make him break a leg for sure!” 

“Yes, milady,” the Shelmet said, sounding bored. His cheeks bulged as he tilted back his head. A glob of purple sludge shot out from his puckered lips and splattered on the floor. Arcanine bounded into the goo, only to lose his footing and crash face-first into the wall. Dion vaulted over his head, colliding with the wall as well. Once he had recovered, he let go of the headmaster and meekly slunk over to Eileen. 

“Now it's my time to shine!” the Yamask said as she sank into the wall. She reappeared in front of Arcanine, her crimson gaze burning with an eerie glow. As she locked eyes with the headmaster, his face was enveloped by horror. 

Cleo winked at her teammates. “My performance was _Astonish_ ing, if I do say so myself.” 

The two Bug-type Pokémon snickered. 

“Ah, Cleo!” Headmaster Arcanine jumped back, taking care not to slip again. “What in the world is going on?” 

“Oh, nothing much. You nearly obliterated Dion and… a Scyther?” She squinted at Eileen. “Who _is_ that, anyway?” 

“A Scyther?” the headmaster repeated, raising his hackles. “Where? _Where?_ ” 

Cleo clouted him on the nose with her mask. “No! Bad Headmaster.” 

“Oof.” Headmaster Arcanine tossed his head, giving his ragged mane a shake. He grunted, “My apologies.” 

“Don't apologize to me. The Scyther's over there.” Cleo cast a finger at the stairs, flashing Eileen an impish grin. 

Dion let out a pitiful noise resembling a growl as Headmaster Arcanine sauntered over to her. 

To Eileen's relief, he maintained his composure. “Why, hello there!” he greeted. 

Still uncomfortable, Eileen swallowed and ducked away. 

The headmaster inched closer. “Again, I am deeply sorry for any trouble I might have caused.” His amiable disposition faded as he approached Dion. Coldly, he demanded, “Who is this Scyther and why is she here?” 

“Headmaster, I...” Dion weaved his fingers together as he wracked his brain for an excuse. He saw Cleo use Astonish out of the corner of his eye. There was nothing he could do to stop her. Filled with dread, Dion buckled. His whole body drooped. “I… I found her knocked out in the Foreboding Bog. She says she's lost her memory, and… she needs your help, Headmaster!” 

Before Headmaster Arcanine had a chance to respond, Cleo feigned a gasp. “The _Foreboding Bog?_ Dion, what in the world were you doing out there? Everybody knows that's where the meat-eaters live!” 

“Meat-eaters? I didn't see any meat-eaters!” Dion retorted. 

“Oh, really? How can you be so sure your new friend isn't one of them? I bet she lied about having amnesia so you'd take her to the academy. Don't you see what you've done, Dion? You've put us all in danger!” 

In sudden alarm, Dion asked, “Eileen, you're not a meat-eater… are you?” 

Even though Eileen remembered eating meat as a human, she shook her head in an effort to avoid conflict. In a society made up of intelligent Pokémon, being a carnivore was clearly taboo. 

“Come on, Dion. How stupid do you have to be to think she'd admit to something like that?” Cleo pointed at her eyes, and then at Eileen. “I'm onto you, cannibal.” 

“Enough!” shouted Headmaster Arcanine. “Throwing around baseless accusations won't do us any good. This matter requires further investigation.” His speech was unusually eloquent. “Dion, I'd like to speak with you and the Scyther in private. Report to my quarters as soon as you are ready.” 

Dion dipped his head. “Okay, Headmaster,” he said as the old Arcanine plodded up the stairs. 

Cleo crossed her arms. “Before you go, don't you think you're forgetting something?” 

“No?” 

Sheldon and the Karrablast stepped closer to Cleo as she said, “Team Masquerade saved your lives. I think you owe us some gratitude.” 

“But you didn't even do anything until the last minute!” Dion whined. 

“Does it really matter? Let me repeat myself: we _saved your lives_.” 

Dion couldn't think of anything else to say in protest. He sighed, sinking even closer to the floor. “Thanks, Team Masquerade.” 

“There you go!” Cleo was beaming with pride. “You know, if you'd just used your brain for once, you wouldn't have even needed our help. Don't you know Sleep Powder?” 

Dion gasped. “That's right! I _do_ know Sleep Powder! How could I forget? It's a special move my Pa passed down to me!” 

“Dion, Dion, Dion.” Cleo waggled her finger at him. “You'll never make it as a hunter if you don't think outside the box. Just because a strategy worked once doesn't mean it'll work every single time.” She paused. “You should thank me for that advice, too.” 

Dion scowled. “I think we should get going now. I wouldn't want to make Headmaster Arcanine wait.” With that, he went up the stairs. Eileen trudged along behind him. 

“Whatever. The three of us need to head out as well. We were assigned a mission in Nightshade Tower. That's a Rank C dungeon, in case you didn't know. It's such a pity you can't come along.” Cleo beckoned her teammates toward the open drawbridge. “Sheldon! Stella! It's showtime!” Together, they departed. 

Dion led Eileen around a corner and down a long hallway, which was lined with sturdy wooden doors. After turning another corner, they arrived in front of a door that was much larger than any of the others. It was already open, so the two of them slipped inside. 

The headmaster's quarters were cramped and cluttered. Stacks of crates towered to the ceiling, making the room appear a lot smaller than it actually was. Spread amongst the crates were burlap sacks overflowing with gold coins. Headmaster Arcanine lay in the center of the room, snoring. 

“Aw, rats. I knew we shouldn't have waited so long.” Dion approached the headmaster and tugged on the end of his scarf. 

“Huh?” He woke with a start, slinging a glob of drool. “Is it suppertime already?” 

“If only,” said Dion. “Don't you remember, Headmaster? You said you wanted to talk to us.” 

Headmaster Arcanine stared at him vacantly for a few seconds before bobbing his head. “Ah, yes.” He cleared his throat. “So,” he began, “you found this Scyther in the Foreboding Bog, and she claims to have lost her memory?” 

“That's right, Headmaster. Her name is Eileen, by the way.” 

To Dion's surprise, the headmaster let out a bellowing laugh. “Well, it seems I've found a kindred spirit! Eileen, my memory's not so great, either. As a matter of fact, that's why I attacked you earlier.” He twisted his neck, showing her the scar that had taken the place of his left eye. “I lost this in a duel with a Scyther. Or… now that I think about it, it might've been a Kabutops. Or perhaps it was a Zangoose?” He laughed again. “Ya see what I mean?” 

Eileen shifted uncomfortably on her feet. 

“Sometimes I forget where I am, or _when_ I am. It's truly a miracle I've lived as long as I have, but being this old comes with a price.” He sniffed. “Lass… you're just a young 'un, though. What could have caused you to lose your memory?” 

Dion interjected, “I found her near some rocks. I was thinking she must've hit her head.” 

Headmaster Arcanine shushed him. “Quiet, lad. Let the girl speak for herself.” 

Eileen's anxiety spiked as both of the Pokémon turned toward her. Their stares, fixed yet uncertain, pressured her into raising her voice. Eileen should have been hesitant, but the words spilled out naturally: “I didn't _just_ lose my memory—I lost _everything_.” She added, “Also, I'm a human.” 


End file.
